


The Bow Tie Collection

by a_simple_rainbow



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabble, Fluff, Humor, Klaine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_simple_rainbow/pseuds/a_simple_rainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For notthetoothfairy’s birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!</p><p>Prompt:“I fell asleep on your couch after a party but you didn’t complain and made breakfast for the both of us” AU with the specifications of: I’d like it to be Kurt falling asleep at a Tike+Blaine houseparty (Kurt only knowing Tina and Mike, obviously) and Santana and Rachel just leaving him there because he was flirting with Blaine all evening anyway but both were too shy to actually make a move so the girls thought that some more alone time couldn’t hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bow Tie Collection

The doorbell rings when Blaine’s still combing the finishing touches to his hair, bowtie hanging loose over his shoulders.

“Tina!” he calls, “Can you get it?” it’s probably her friends, anyway. His would know better than to show up this early.

“I’m in my underwear!” comes the answer.

“Mike!” he calls, “Can you get it?”

It’s Tina’s voice, still, “I’m in my underwear!”

Blaine freezes for a moment, caught between amusement and mortification and drops the comb on the shelf above the sink before jogging over to the front door. He checks his watch – whoever it is, they’re forty five minutes early, and that’s kind of… rude. Still, he smiles as wide as ever as he opens the door.

Sure enough he knows neither of the three faces greeting him. There’s a tall, stunning and slightly intimidating brunette already raking her eyes over Blaine, clearly evaluating him in some sort of way – it kind of makes him want to at least flinch. There’s a short brunette, with eager eyes flitting between Blaine and the room behind him, clearly trying to decide what she’s more curious about, the house or the housemate. And then there’s a tall boy, with really nice hair, and a slight blush to his cheeks as he holds a plate of… something.

“Hi.” Blaine breathes, knowing better than to stare – unlike any of them, apparently. “I don’t know any of you, so I’m assuming you’re from Tina and Mike’s side of things. I’m Blaine – it’s very nice to finally meet you all. Welcome to our home!”

The smaller girl thrusts her hand toward Blaine, who shakes it. Her grip is unnecessarily strong. “Rachel Berry. It’s very nice to meet you too. We’ve heard great things so far. I prepared something for the occasion, because I know most people don’t really bother with vegan options for more alternative party goers such as myself,” she yanks the plate of something out of the boys hands and practically shoves it in the direction of Blaine’s chest. He catches it before it can ruin his shirt. “We thought we’d pop by a little earlier to help with the preparations. We had our own housewarming party last year and it was pretty much a nightmare, so we know you must be completely freaking out over here.”

Blaine tries not to frown too hard. “Not really…” he says, but she’s not paying attention.

“Oh, you have-”

“Everything ready.” He finishes for her, starting to walk over to the kitchen counter to drop her plate of not so appetizing looking appetizers, “Pretty much. We were just getting ready ourselves, actually. But it’s very kind of you, thank you.”

“Oh, well, more time to chat and get to know each other,” she plows through, “The apartment looks terrific. How can you even afford this?”

He stutters. He’s pretty sure people aren’t supposed to ask near-strangers how they can afford things.

The other two must sense this because the taller girl steps closer, her hand grabbing Rachel’s shoulder with what looks like a slightly painful grip and pulling her back, “So, where’s Asian Fusion?”

“I… I’m sorry?”

“The Asian inhabitants of this house.”

“Oh. I-” _not really important, Blaine._ “Tina’s getting dressed. I’m sure she’ll be out in a moment.”

“Mike?” The boy asks, his expression a little pained as he looks between the two girls.

“He’s, huh, helping her…?” he cringes, feeling his cheeks getting a little warm as he chuckles and shrugs.

“Wanky.” The tall girl mutters before she says, “I’m Santana and this is Kurt.”

“Ohh, that makes sense.” He considers, his brain finally connecting her face and demeanor to the many stories he’s heard. And Rachel’s intensity to the actual apprehension in Mike and Tina’s voices when talking about her. And Kurt’s face to all the times Tina has hinted at wanting to set them up. Well… maybe he should’ve said yes.

Kurt frowns slightly, “What makes sense?”

“I heard many things – it’s just nice to put some faces to all the names,” he says, offering them all a placating smile.

“Mostly good things, I hope!” Rachel quips and Blaine’s surprised to find she’s actually looking for confirmation.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods as eagerly as he can without overselling it. Santana smirks.

Blaine really just wants to go back to his bedroom and finish tying his bow tie and put on one last whiff of cologne, and make sure his bed his well made and his room is impeccable.

“Well,” Kurt says, clearly sensing the awkwardness settling in, “this apartment really is great, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a student home so well decorated – except maybe ours – so, I really have to-OH MY GOD, is that bow tie from the new Calvin Klein collection? It’s exquisite!”

Blaine can’t help the grin spreading over his face, “Yes! Actually, I bought like half the bow ties in that collection, I just… They cannot put something like that out there and then expect me to control myself, you know?!”

“Ugh.” Kurt groans, “I _know_. I’m halfway done with my foolproof plan to steal all of it. Especially the coats.”

“TINA!” Blaine calls, “Your friends are _fantastic_!”

-x-

Kurt is slightly tipsy. Maybe more than slightly. Probably.

Kind of drunk, really.

Santana keeps shoving drinks in his face, and Rachel keeps coming up to him with the most ridiculous toasts ever. I mean, he’s all for drinking for Barbra Streisand, or Patti LuPone, or even Olivia Newton John, but it’s getting to a point where it just doesn’t make sense because why would Rachel want to toast to Blake Lively, or whatshername from The OC? That show ended ages ago!

He tells her that too. But she just says “Bottoms up!”

He’s still grimacing around the stupidly large sip he took, when a hand touches his shoulder and he turns to find lovely hazel eyes and a bright smile. He’s almost drunk enough to swoon. Thankfully he manages to catch himself almost as well as he did when the boy opened the door.

“Hey!” Blaine says, holding two cups of something. “I was going to offer you a drink, but I see you’re… taken care of in that department.”

“Oh.” Kurt pouts a little bit, “Yeah.”

“Maybe some food? While I try to catch up to you,” he tilts his head toward the kitchen area.

“That is a brilliant idea, Blaine, thank you!”

Blaine grins, “I try,” he chuckles, hand feather light at the bottom of Kurt’s back as he guides him in the right direction.

“Seriously, though,” Kurt says. “How did you guys manage to have this party ready forty five minutes ahead of time? That’s insane.” He really, really needs to know. Because of reasons. He’s not sure what are the reasons, but he’s sure they exist. Somewhere.

“I just… I like to be organized.” Blaine shrugs.

“I knew it was you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Tina and Mike are great, but when you put them together in the same room with no adult supervision it just goes… hum, _south_.”

Blaine chuckles.

“Like the dirty kind of south.”

Blaine chuckles again.

“Like the sex dirty, not the dirty dirty.”

Blaine laughs, and Kurt feels some sort of bubble of pride swelling up inside of him at the sight.

“Anyway,” Blaine sighs, “Food?” he grabs the plate of Rachel’s… things.

Kurt steps closer so he can whisper in Blaine’s ear – Rachel could be listening and that would be terrible. “Oh _no_ ,” he tells him, “don’t ever eat _that_.”

He steps around Blaine and grabs a bowl of chips, “ _This_ is delicious!” he turns around. Blaine is still standing where he left him, looking a little pink in the cheeks.

-x-

“But like… like… I… I don’t know.” Kurt sighs, throwing his head back against the couch, clearly frustrated at having lost his words. It kind of makes Blaine giggle – and he’s already spending so much of his concentration on not concentrating in the way their thighs are pressed together, that he can’t make himself stop.

“But the last album makes me feel things.” Blaine counters once he finally can. “Like, really. It makes me… like… want to go through all of that just to feel it too, because… it’s just so… magical, you know? The songs are magical, Kurt.”

“But the previous albums are…” he mimics gaging.

“They’re not.” Blaine glares playfully, “I bet you know at least… eight songs, and I bet you know the lyrics by heart!”

“Of course I know! Knowing it doesn’t mean I like it!”

“Knowing the lyrics kind of does.” Blaine teases, bumping their shoulders together and not really managing to pull back completely.

Kurt eyes him for a moment, before he smirks as if he’s about to win the debate. “I liked it ironically.”

“Pffffffffff.” Blaine shakes his head and waves his hand, “There is no such thing as liking something ironically, Kurt. That’s what the hipsters tell other people so they can keep on pretending they’re cooler than everyone else.”

Apparently out of arguments, Kurt just jabs a finger at Blaine’s stomach, making him gasp and double over, “Mean!”

“Excuse me?” Blaine laughs, sitting back, not moving back but extending his hands protectively between the two of them. “I’m not the one physically assaulting people when they win arguments.”

“You did not win the argument.” Kurt scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I did. I proved you’re an elitist and a liar to boot.”

Kurt gapes at that, just as Shake It Off starts playing.

“But that’s okay,” Blaine smiles, “I won’t tell anyone if you dance with me to the object of our debate.” He springs to his feet and doesn’t give Kurt any time to reply before he’s grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.

-x-

They’ve been dancing for at least half an hour. Songs kind of bleed together in Kurt’s brain, and drinks keep appearing his hand. He knows what Santana is doing (or at least he’s pretty sure it’s Santana doing it), but then Blaine’s hand is also always full with a drink of his own, and he couldn’t care less. Between the dancing and everything he’s not nearly as drunk as he should, given the clear efforts of some third party to make it happen, so he’s not exactly worried, and he just lets himself rock out to songs getting progressively sillier and older. They’re shimmying, leaning back and forth – sometimes one of them will loose balance or miss the tempo of the song, and their chests will bump together. Blaine always laughs when that happens, so sometimes Kurt does it on purpose.

When the song stops and shifts to another, everyone hollering with recognition, Blaine stands up a little straighter and starts on a silly move with his hips and shoulders and Kurt reaches over and undoes his bowtie.

Blaine falters for a moment, looking absolutely delicious with flushed cheeks and wine stained lips, mouth agape, panting from the dancing.

“What was that for?” his voice sounds so innocently husky Kurt could die.

Kurt bites at his lips to keep himself from giggling and shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Blaine smiles a little at that, and Kurt doesn’t think he imagines when it feels like he moves a little closer.

“I just… felt like it needed to be done,” he shrugs.

Blaine nods, looking almost serious before he takes the undone tie, slipping it off his collar, and then reaches around Kurt’s neck and ties it, all the while never missing a beat of the music.

It’s the single most wonderful experience in all of Kurt’s life. Possibly because he’s inebriated, but still. Kurt kind of wants to ask Blaine if he can see the rest of his bowtie collection – which of course is totally not what Kurt wants to see, and that train of thought leaves him giggling and breathless.

Blaine’s straightening it with a final thug when something loud crashes and they look, startled to find the punch bowl shattered on the kitchen floor – red spilling everywhere. Blaine sighs and Kurt groans.

-x-

Blaine finishes picking up the shards of glass and stares at the pool of punch across the floor. He glares at it, willing it to just ago away. Tina is putting some dishrags on top of it. Blaine looks up at the rest of the party – Kurt’s sitting down on the couch, nursing his drink and staring at the ceiling. Blaine wants to kill whoever did this. He takes a plastic container out of a cabinet and starts twisting the dishrags.

Every two minutes he’ll look up at the couch to find Kurt progressively more and more cuddled up into it.

The party is dying down – between the hours and the broken punch bowl people are starting to leave. He can’t help dreading the moment he’ll look up to find Santana and Rachel dragging Kurt out of the couch so they can leave as well.

Once most of it is cleaned up he gets the mop – because he absolutely refuses to have alcoholic sticky floors. That’s when he looks up to find Santana and Rachel over by the couch. They prod Kurt’s shoulder slightly and when he doesn’t move, clearly asleep, they shrug and turn to leave without him.

Blaine’s torn between some sort of relief, and confusion that they would abandon their friend that easily.

With Kurt asleep and a dying party Blaine decides to just continue tidying up the place. Some people offer to stay a while longer and help, but he refuses claiming he likes doing this sort of thing alone – he’s not lying – and knowing he can use the time to sober up before bed. He’d rather not have a hangover.

Tina and Mike try to help, once the house is empty, except for Kurt sleeping on the couch, but it’s very clear they’re beyond exhausted and would much rather do it in the morning – Tina suggests it three times in ten minutes.

“Tina, seriously, I don’t mind doing it alone. You should just go to bed.”

“But it’s _our_ party! You shouldn’t be left cleaning up all alone.”

“I like doing it alone, really. I promise,” he levels with her – it’s not too effective because they’re still both a little drunk and slurring their words. “You can clean up the next one.”

She eyes him for a moment. “Okay.”

Mike just walks past them on his way to the bathroom and pats Blaine’s shoulder, “Thanks, man.”

Tina starts to follow him, but Blaine catches her elbow, “Hey, huh, what about…?”

“If he’s sleeping, it’s not consensual,” she says very seriously.

“Tina!” Blaine gasps, flushing a violent shade of red and she laughs outrageously loud.

“Just let him be. He’s only got himself to blame for the back pain and the hangover tomorrow morning,” she shrugs and leaves for the bathroom.

Blaine watches her go before he sighs and goes to the kitchen. He pours a tall glass of water and then puts it on the coffee table, close to Kurt’s face. He grabs a blanket from his bedroom and drapes it over Kurt’s body, and then continues to clean up.

When Tina and Mike emerge from the bathroom, teeth brushed and clothes already half off to be replaced with pajamas, they pause to look at Kurt and coo.

-x-

Kurt wakes up torn between grimacing at his splitting headache, and smiling at the smell of bacon. He opens his eyes slowly – it’s a bright sunny morning, apparently. The night is a little hazy, if he’s going to be honest. He remembers Rachel and Santana making sure he kept drinking the whole time, and he remembers dancing a lot… and he remembers having a very clear goal. What was the goal again?

He manages to sit up and look around himself just as a gorgeous boy in a white simple T-shirt and jeans comes out of the kitchen area, clearly walking carefully, his bare feet barely making any noise, as he carries a plate out.

Kurt remembers now.

The boy startles as he notices Kurt looking at him.

“Oh,” Blaine says, eyes a little wide. Kurt notices the way his hair is wet and curly, and his face looks fresher than any face as a right to be the day after a party that intense. “You’re awake,” his voice is soft and careful, like he’s expecting Kurt to be as hung-over as he really is.

“Yeah…” Kurt mumbles. His mouth feels like a desert, and he can’t imagine how his breath must smell. “I… Hi.”

Blaine smiles, “Good morning,” he half-whispers, laying down a plate of bacon and eggs on the coffee table and with a fork and a knife, “I didn’t know if you preferred this or pancakes, but… I always prefer grease and salt when I’m hung over. I can also make some French toast, if you want.”

“Oh, it’s for me?” Kurt frowns, his brain still stubbornly uncooperative.

“Yeah.” Blaine nods, straightening back up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He swings slightly on the balls of his feet, looking adorable before he adds, “I’m sorry if the couch was uncomfortable. I would’ve given you my bed, but you were kind of out to the world. You should eat. And drink the water. Do you want an aspirin?”

“Oh.” The information takes a long time to register, and then the only word out of Kurt’s mouth is, “You?”

“Sorry?”

“Eating. You’re not eating?”

“Oh. I ate already. I... it’s, huh, three pm…? I’ve been awake for a couple of hours… I was just kind of hoping the smell would bring you all back to life,” he smiles with an embarrassed chuckle.

“All?”

“Tina and Mike,” Blaine supplies, “Will you excuse me? Just going to give them their plate while it’s warm.”

Kurt shakes his head and Blaine goes off back to the kitchen with a polite smile. Kurt counts to five before he makes himself move to grab the water and chug it down. From the corner of his eye he can still see as Blaine piles some more eggs and bacon onto another plate, and then slowly opens the silverware drawer, taking out to forks, and moves, just a silently as before, to a closed door. He knocks gently before he opens it.

There are hushed voices – the bedroom is dark, and it’s clear Mike and Tina were mid-waking up process.

Kurt picks up his own food and starts eating slowly. Every forkful gets him feeling a little more human. After a couple of minutes all three of them shuffle out of the bedroom. Blaine walks straight to the bathroom, but Tina and Mike drag themselves over to the couch – still in their pajamas, Tina cradling the plate of food while Mike puts on a shirt. Her hair resembles a bit of a rat’s nest, but it’s adorable. And it reminds Kurt that his is probably not much better. He tries to be discreet and he runs his fingers through it.

Kurt shuffles to one side of the couch and they crash on the other with mumbled thanks.

“I feel like I woke up in a different century.” Tina mumbles, her mouth full.

She receives two grunts in response.

Blaine comes out of the bathroom and goes to the kitchen. None of them look to see what he’s doing, but after cabinets opening and closing, fridge opening and closing, he comes back with two more glasses of water. He hands one to each of them, and then stars distributing aspirins.

“Mike,” Tina whispers, “I’m so sorry. But I’m in love with Blaine.”

Mike nods. “I know. I am too.”

There’s a stretch of silence, and then Kurt says, “It’d be kind of awkward if I agreed to the sentiment, wouldn’t it?”

There are chuckles and then painful groans. Blaine just shoots him a blushing smile and a mock salute before he goes over to sit on the arm of the couch, next to Kurt. Kurt remembers sitting for what might have been hours just talking nonsense, completely glued to Blaine’s body. It leaves him tingling.

“But like,” he asks, a little more awake, as he turning towards Tina, “where did you find him? My roommates never woke me up with freshly made bacon and eggs… my roommates abandon me in strange couches.”

“Hardly a strange couch.” Mike points out.

“We found him in this cute little neat thrift shop that sells 1950’s gentlemen,” Tina says, shooting an almost bright grin at Blaine, who snorts.

“Hardly,” he says. “I don’t actually have a housewife to be incredibly but politely sexist to.”

Kurt chuckles, and finishes eating. As he bends over to put the empty plate on the coffee table he notices something snug against his neck. Frowning he pulls at it and finds himself holding a particularly gorgeous bowtie.

“Whose is this?”

“That…” Blaine says, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink, “would be mine.” He picks up the bowtie out of Kurt hand and folds it carefully before putting it in his pocket.

Silence takes over, and Kurt remembers dancing with Blaine and undoing the tie for absolutely no other reason than the fact the he wanted to touch Blaine’s clothes – or quite possibly take them off. Probably take them off. He can feel his cheeks burning and he hopes no one is looking at him at the moment.

After a while Tina breaks the silence. “I’ve never seen you without gel in your hair, Blaine.”

“Someone puked on my products,” he says with a bitter smile, and they all wince at the thought.

“Well, I think you look dashing with your curls,” she tells him, reaching over Kurt to pat Blaine’s leg. Kurt tries not to look at it, because he also remembers thinking about wanting to bite those legs last night. He’s even more mortified to find that the sentiment hasn’t changed.

“Thanks.” Blaine mumbles, running timid hand over his head. Kurt’s caught staring when Blaine glances nervously at him, and they both look away.

“Kurt, scoot over so Blaine can squeeze in.” Tina says, and Kurt tries not to blush even more as he moves in to closer to Tina. Blaine mumbles his thanks, just as Tina continues, “We should watch something… I feel like watching bad movies. Babe, why don’t you go put on Step Up?”

“That’s not a bad movie.” Mike deadpans, but he groans and pushes himself off the couch.

“I should go.” Kurt mumbles.

“No, no, honey, staaay.” Tina grabs his arms and cuddles into his shoulder. “If you go the couch won’t be so snug. I need it snug.”

“I think I’ve imposed enough, I-”

A hand settles on his knee, “Kurt, really, it’s fine. We’re apparently just gonna watch debatably bad movies. You’re not imposing at all,” Blaine tells him with a sweet smile. “And Tina needs her snuggles.”

Kurt opens his mouth to protest, but it’s not like he actually wants to protest. “Alright, but I need to at least brush my teeth.”

Blaine chuckles, “I’ll see if I can find you an extra toothbrush.”

They settle back into to watch Step Up, the sound almost on mute, after Kurt has sufficiently sanitized his mouth. He kind of thrills internally at the fact that the sitting arrangements haven’t changed in the meantime, and he’s still squished between Tina and Blaine. They pull the blanket over all of their legs.

Kurt remembers being half asleep and feeling a blanket being draped around him, and snickers and Blaine shushing the snickers. “You’re gonna wake him up! Shut up! Go to bed!”

He grabs the blanket a little tighter to himself and burrows deeper into the couch with a small smile.

Tina and Mike fall asleep pretty much ten minutes into it, and Kurt feels kind of obligated to offer to leave again, but he doesn’t and Blaine doesn’t move form his place on the couch either, staring at the TV, as if he was truly engrossed in it.

“Are you actually paying attention to it?” Kurt whispers.

“Absolutely not,” Blaine chuckles. “I usually turn to reality TV for this kind of thing.”

“Me too.” Kurt nods and Blaine gives him a smile.

“Do you think you can reach the remote without waking them up?” he bumps theirs shoulders together. Kurt rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote without worrying about Tina or Mike. As he predicted neither of them so much as stirred.

Blaine just chuckles when Kurt gives him the remote with a smirk.

“So you’re gonna give 1989 a chance?” Blaine asks after a while of watching Real Housewives of Somewhere.

Kurt laughs, “Shut up.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that-”

“Blaine. There’s a perfectly engaging discussion happening right there on that screen. Now, if you want to discuss it with me, I’m all ears, but if you-“

“Fine.” Blaine interrupts, digging a little closer to Kurt, “But this debate is still not over.”

Kurt just gives him a long look, trying very hard not to smile the slightest, before he turns back to the TV. “She’s such a goddess.”

“She is a b-i-t-c-h.”

“Exactly.”

Blaine huffs out a silent laugh, and Kurt side-eyes him with a smirk.

Kurt remembers Santana digging her claw like nails into his shoulder and telling him it’s time to get home and that he’s a loser for not sealing the deal when he had the chance. He remembers keeping his eyes shut and pretending to be fast asleep, because he was not quite ready to give up on sealing the deal yet.

They spend at least an hour watching crappy reality TV, keeping a running commentary of what was happening, sometimes even muting the TV so they could make up their own dialogues. Tina and Mike wake up sometimes, when they laugh a little too loud, but they go back to sleep just as easily.

Kurt can’t get over the way Blaine buries his face in his shoulder every time he laughs, and how, because of how often that happens, he’s pretty much just snuggled up to Kurt’s side.

“Why, Andrea,” Blaine whispers as the woman on screen opens her mouth looking ferocious as ever, “you can’t just go around buying guinea pigs for everyone. It’s not polite! Guinea pigs, like any other pets, are a big responsibility and people are allowed to think it through and maybe not want to have them in their homes, because they also smell sometimes, when you don’t clean their cage, and damn, why won’t she shut up? I don’t have this much imagination, Kurt.”

Kurt giggles, and lets Blaine settle back against him. Blaine’s chin hooks over Kurt’s shoulder, and the backs of their hands are touching.

“What do you think would have happened if the punch bowl hadn’t been broken?”

Blaine tenses slightly at that, and just looks at Kurt for a minute. “Well… I think it’s safe to assume there would have been more dancing.”

“I think I was about to – mind you, I was… inebriated. But I think I was about to ask you if you could show me your bowtie collection.”

“Oh.” Blaine’s mouth is a perfect little ‘o’ shape. His eyebrows rise up to meet the few curls flopping down onto his forehead. His cheeks go pink. “Well… I… that’s… was it just because you were inebriated?”

Kurt forces himself to answer despite the way his heart his thundering against his ribcage. He smiles as he shakes his head.

“Hum…” Blaine swallows. Kurt doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit over to check on their sleeping friends, “I, huh, would’ve said yes.”

“Because you were also inebriated?”

Blaine smiles and shakes his head.

He’s never done this. Kurt has literally never done this. But.

“Could I… see your bowtie collection, now?”

Blaine only hesitates for a second before he grabs the remote, turns the volume a little louder, and then stands. Kurt follows him to his room, and kind of laughs when Blaine goes straight for his dresser and opens the top drawer, filled with expertly stored bowties.

Blaine smirks, “Well, what do you think?”

“Okay, I know this is supposed to be a joke, but seriously, Blaine, you have to let me borrow some of these. They’re gorgeous.”

“You’re welcome to them.” Blaine shrugs easily before he moves over to his desk and opens his laptop, “I’m just going to take this chance to introduce you to some wonderful music, by a Miss-“

“ _Blaine_.”

With a challenging smirk a finger taps against a key and then there’s music. “I’m doing this fo-”

Kurt presses his lips against Blaine’s with eager intent. His whole body shifts and presses against Blaine’s, and it’s enough to shut him up, and a much, much better use of their time.

-x-

Tina wakes up to a darkened living room. The sun is setting, or has set, and she realizes she’s just slept the whole day away. There’s some terrible reality show on TV, and it’s a little too loud. She grabs the remote, not quite noticing that it’s carelessly forgotten where Kurt and Blaine had been sitting, and turns it off. Then she hears the music, coming from Blaine’s bedroom, she finally notices the missing boys. She cranes her neck to see if any of them are in the kitchen, and then she tiptoes to her bedroom to make sure it’s empty.

She’s halfway through texting Kurt to ask him if he left already when she hears it. Clearly not part of a Taylor Swift song, no matter how many sighs and groans her new album included, that was not her voice.

That was Blaine’s voice. Moaning.

She barely manages to slap her hands over her mouth before she gasped too loudly.

The truly pornographic sound is followed by loud laughter, and idiotically loud shushing, and then the volume of the music increases – exponentially.

Well, she figures, they’d been sharing the apartment for a month and Blaine had already walked in on her and Mike twice in the living room – he had a right to let out an accidentally loud moan from within his bedroom. Especially if it meant it was Kurt making him do it.

-x-

Tina: They’re doing it.

Santana: Who’s doing what?

Tina: Kurt and Blaine are doing *it*

Rachel: WHAT REALLY?

Tina: I’m pretty sure I just heard Kurt coming, actually. It’s so cute. They’re clearly trying to be really silent and careful – they have music on and they left us with the TV on, with the sound turned up. But every once in a while… it’s really very adorable.

Santana: I s2g Kurts never gonna hear the end of this. Hes always bitching to me about me fcking on the 1 date, and he goes and does this. Not even a date. Judgmental slut.

Tina: I thought it was what we wanted.

Santana: Fo sho. But he still gon get a nasty talking to when he finishes his walk of shame. Eventually.

Rachel: From the looks of it that might not happen until tomorrow tho. Is he going to have dinner over at your place…?

Tina: I have no idea. They probably think Mike and I are still sleeping on the couch, and I bet they’re both cuddlers after doing the deed. So… probably? Assuming they’re gonna fall asleep after. And then late dinner… I wouldn’t count on having him home till the weekends over. Don’t worry, tho, I think he won’t be moving in just yet. ;) you have time to look for a replacement for him. Ahaha

-x-

When Mike wakes up, it’s to an empty couch, loud laughter and the clink, clunk, clack of kitchen cabinets, pots and pans. He rubs the sleep off his eyes, and looks around himself. Kurt and Blaine are in the kitchen, cooking something that smells pretty delicious.

Kurt’s sitting on the kitchen counter, holding a glass of red wine and wearing a shirt that Mike could have sworn Blaine had been wearing last week. But he also might be wrong. He’s not very good at noticing these things. Blaine’s at the stove, stirring something.

He pushes himself to his feet and Kurt notices him with a wide smile, “Welcome to the land of the living, Michael Chang,”

Mike snorts slightly and nods his hello.

“We’re making risotto for dinner,” Blaine informs him with a fake Italian accent, which makes Kurt giggle. “Is that something you’re okay with?”

Mike nods as he stretches himself and pops every bone in his body. “Tina?”

Blaine shrugs, as he hops on to sit next to Kurt on the counter, dusting off his hands and picking up his own glass of wine. “I suspect the shower, since the water’s been running for the last fifteen minutes.”

“Global warming is a thing, you know?” Kurt quips, which in turn makes Blaine giggle.

Mike nods and doesn’t hesitate before turning in the direction of the bathroom. He hears them chuckling, and looks back just in time to see Kurt’s hand travel lightly and easily through the small of Blaine’s back.

He opens the bathroom door, sitting on the toilet.

“So those two totally had sex.”

“I _know_!” she says excitedly sticking her head out of the shower curtain.


End file.
